


24 Hours

by Xie



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-28
Updated: 2014-05-28
Packaged: 2018-01-26 22:23:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1704704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xie/pseuds/Xie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for a "Bring Back the Porn" challenge. Post-513 in New York.</p>
            </blockquote>





	24 Hours

It was a shitty day. A shitty day that got shittier with every passing hour.

I'd gotten home late from the club where I was bussing for tips – tips that every night far exceeded anything I ever made in a week at the diner, but came at the price of more or less endless groping by drunken customers.

The bartenders groped me, too, but I didn't mind that too much, since the management hired mostly on the basis of looks rather than knowledge of how to mix a really dry martini.

I'd been so exhausted I'd slept through my alarm, and barely got half a cup of coffee in before I had to go to Brooklyn to meet with the head of a gallery I was hoping would show my work. That meeting went well, but just when I thought the day had turned around, a truck splashed through an icy puddle while I was waiting to cross the street, the subway still five freezing blocks away.

I didn't have time to go home and change, because I was meeting the landlord at my studio to see if he could fix the fucking heat, which was either completely off or ten thousand degrees, with nothing in between. Since neither temperature was ideal for my canvases and paints, even if I could stand it, which I couldn't, I'd finally refused to pay my rent until he got in his expensive car and drove down to the scary part of town to see what the fuck was going on.

When I finally dragged my tired, cold, battered ass up the four flights of stairs to my tiny studio apartment that had only one virtue -- that it was mine, all mine, unlike the three places I'd lived in for a month or two each since moving to New York -- I was ready for a shower, peace, quiet, and ten uninterrupted hours of sleep.

I pushed the door open, and hung my jacket and scarf on the hook on the wall. I kicked off my filthy pants and dropped them in the hamper, then pulled my sweater off over my head.

And froze as soon as it cleared my eyes, because lying on the bed near the bathroom door was Brian, arms folded behind his head, totally naked.

"What the…" My tired brain refused to process the information, and I just stood there.

"Well, hello, Sunshine. I was starting to think you'd left town." He sat up, his skin tawny against my blue duvet.

I dropped my sweater on the floor. Brian knelt up as I crawled onto the bed, and he was suddenly _there_ , warm and hard against me, his hands tugging my underpants down, mouth crushing into mine.

I buried my fingers in his hair and my face in his neck. He was kissing me everywhere he could reach, shifting my thighs apart with his knee, pressing me down onto the mattress.

His finger trailed down the crack of my ass when my legs fell open around him. I almost reached over for condoms and lube, but he knew where they were. I just lay there, letting him play in my ass, kiss my chest, nuzzle my throat.

His tongue thrust into my belly button, and I laughed and grabbed at his hair. He swallowed my cock, and my laugh turned into a groan. He was fucking me with two fingers, sucking hard on my dick, and I felt my orgasm start to boil up out of my balls.

I pushed him off my cock, and he moved up between my legs, hand going out to the drawer next to the bed. I changed my mind about just lying there, and rolled the condom on his cock with shaking hands. He was pressing the lubed head against my ass a second later, and I gripped him hard with my legs around his waist.

The breath went out of me when he thrust all the way in, his stomach muscles clenching and releasing as he fucked me, my cock pressed tight between us.

My orgasm came back with every shove of his cock over my prostate, and I panted and gasped and said his name, and flooded all over his stomach and chest, and mine.

My ass was spasming around his cock, and it was too much, almost painful, as he rode out the fading waves of my orgasm and started his own. I held onto him with my arms and legs, feeling every muscle in his body tense and hold.

He fell down on me, slick with sweat and smeared with my come. My legs dropped open, and a few minutes later, I felt him reach between us and ease himself out of me, holding the base of the condom.

He tied it off and dropped it off the side of the bed. "Remind me to pick that up before the cleaning lady comes," he said, his voice still thick with sex.

"Don't worry," I told him. "She's on a very extended vacation."

He smiled against my shoulder, and shifted his weight off me. "I thought it was looking a little grimy around here."

I started to laugh, but my crappy day caught up with me. I just swallowed a yawn, and let Brian roll over, bringing me with him. I feel asleep with my head on his arm, his legs tangled with mine.

When I woke up, he was sitting at my tiny kitchen table, working on his laptop. I stretched and sat up. "What are you doing here?"

He looked at me and snapped the computer closed. His sweatpants hit the floor on his way to the bed, and he climbed in next to me. "I was just in the neighborhood, so I thought I'd drop by to fuck the shit out of you."

I let him push me back down and kiss me. When he used his hand to move my hair out of my eyes, I caught his fingers with my teeth. He let me lick them for a minute, then kissed me again.

I sighed as he started to turn me onto my stomach. "God. If I'd known my day was going to end like this, I'd have gotten through it a lot faster."

Then his tongue found my asshole, and I stopped talking.

He left the next morning; he said he had a lunch meeting back in Pittsburgh. I had to go see if my studio had been climate controlled for human habitation, and hopefully get some work done. After that, I had a hot date with a lot of half-empty beer bottles and wet cocktail napkins.

I finished my coffee, grabbed my jacket, and headed out the door. It was definitely going to be a great day.


End file.
